Chapter 11: Pain and Punishment
RF's note: Many many thanks to rakina for doing a spectacular job editing this lazy writer's work!
~*~*~
“You… asked… Lucius,” repeated Harry in a daze.
Bill’s jaw snapped shut as he realized exactly what he had just said.
“I… I…” he fumbled desperately to save himself.
Harry’s eyes focused on him with a deadly glint. “Just what kind of a monster are you?” he whispered.
“SOD off!” spat Bill. He drew himself up in fearful defiance. “You know nothing! Nothing!”
Harry felt rage swelling within him. He fought to keep it in check.
“Sixteen years!” continued Bill. “Sixteen sodding years of being the LAST thing on that man’s mind.” His face turned red. “If it was not classes, it was potions. If it was not potions, it was painting! Dumbledore, research, models, books! I was SICK and TIRED of them.
“But most of all… oh, most of all,” he hissed, “was his Stupid Death Eater act.”
“‘Oh, I’m a spy for the Light,’” he mocked. “I am fed up with him leaving and waltzing back home at random hours of the night, disappearing for days, and reappearing beaten into a bloody pulp. He pretends that what he does actually makes a difference! Ha!” Bill’s high cackle made Harry wince. “He was no father to Draco and he was no husband to me. All that mattered was ‘the Light’! ‘The Cause’! Well, SCREW his stinking cause!”
Harry felt his blood reach boiling point.
Bill drew in a sucking breath and straightened. “I told Lucius Sev is a spy. I asked him to go easy on him. I knew that if the Dark Lord thought Severus was dead, we would finally be left alone. This was the only way.”
“Go easy?” squeezed Harry through clenched teeth. “Death Eaters don’t know what that means.” His eyes filled with painful tears. “He would have been dead had I not found him in time. Do you understand what ‘dead’ means? He’s in a coma now. And for all I know…this is your fault, and yours alone.”
Bill waved his hand dismissively, more sure of himself now. “Don’t be stupid. Lucius gave his word. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” His eyes gleamed with hard hatred. “And maybe he deserved the pain. It was small punishment for the years of misery he brought to…”
Bill’s speech was cut off abruptly as the mirror in the hallway shattered into millions of pieces. He shrieked and fell to his knees as some of the shards pierced his flesh.
Harry stepped forward, towering over him. Power shone in his eyes - an inferno of such might that it promised incredible pain. His body was glowing intensely, giving him an ephemeral but infinitely powerful, fearsome look.
He looked Bill in the eye, and Bill felt himself cower.
Slowly, Harry raised his hand. “Accio Staff,” he whispered, keeping his eyes trained on the mumbling form before him.
Bill started violently as doors were slammed open and the White Mage’s staff flew into Harry’s outstretched hand.
“You think it wasn’t bad?” hissed Harry. “You think he deserved it? Let me show you…” his eyes gleamed. “Let me show you what happened that night. Better yet… let me show you how it felt.”
“No…” mumbled Bill, “no, please don’t. Please.” He shrank away.
Harry closed his eyes and steeled himself. In his mind, he called up the memory of the dream that had assaulted him that fateful day. He felt the pain of it reawakened in his body. With a violent effort, he forced the dream into his staff. The Owl’s eyes flared with gathering light. The light grew to blinding power and hurled itself straight into Bill’s heart.
“It’s time to have some fun, my dears,” cackled a high-pitched voice. “Lucius, Bella, show my loyal followers what we do to my not-so-loyal men.”
...The air was filled with screams as the figures attacked a bloodied man who lay limply in the center of the circle…
“Crucio,” hissed Voldemort, pointing his wand at the man.
Bill screamed.
Harry drew his power back. His chest was heaving. He, too, had relived the pain, but he wasn’t about to show it.
His eyes focused on Bill once again. The man was breathing hard; he had felt the pain, but was unhurt.
Suddenly feeling like an old man, Harry leaned heavily on his staff and made his way to the door.
At the threshold, he stopped.
“I pity you,” he said softly, his back turned. “The hardness of your heart must be second only to that of Voldemort himself.”
~*~*~
High above him, in the Hospital Wing, Severus’ eyes fluttered open.
~*~*~
“You… asked… Lucius,” repeated Harry in a daze.
Bill’s jaw snapped shut as he realized exactly what he had just said.
“I… I…” he fumbled desperately to save himself.
Harry’s eyes focused on him with a deadly glint. “Just what kind of a monster are you?” he whispered.
“SOD off!” spat Bill. He drew himself up in fearful defiance. “You know nothing! Nothing!”
Harry felt rage swelling within him. He fought to keep it in check.
“Sixteen years!” continued Bill. “Sixteen sodding years of being the LAST thing on that man’s mind.” His face turned red. “If it was not classes, it was potions. If it was not potions, it was painting! Dumbledore, research, models, books! I was SICK and TIRED of them.
“But most of all… oh, most of all,” he hissed, “was his Stupid Death Eater act.”
“‘Oh, I’m a spy for the Light,’” he mocked. “I am fed up with him leaving and waltzing back home at random hours of the night, disappearing for days, and reappearing beaten into a bloody pulp. He pretends that what he does actually makes a difference! Ha!” Bill’s high cackle made Harry wince. “He was no father to Draco and he was no husband to me. All that mattered was ‘the Light’! ‘The Cause’! Well, SCREW his stinking cause!”
Harry felt his blood reach boiling point.
Bill drew in a sucking breath and straightened. “I told Lucius Sev is a spy. I asked him to go easy on him. I knew that if the Dark Lord thought Severus was dead, we would finally be left alone. This was the only way.”
“Go easy?” squeezed Harry through clenched teeth. “Death Eaters don’t know what that means.” His eyes filled with painful tears. “He would have been dead had I not found him in time. Do you understand what ‘dead’ means? He’s in a coma now. And for all I know…this is your fault, and yours alone.”
Bill waved his hand dismissively, more sure of himself now. “Don’t be stupid. Lucius gave his word. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” His eyes gleamed with hard hatred. “And maybe he deserved the pain. It was small punishment for the years of misery he brought to…”
Bill’s speech was cut off abruptly as the mirror in the hallway shattered into millions of pieces. He shrieked and fell to his knees as some of the shards pierced his flesh.
Harry stepped forward, towering over him. Power shone in his eyes - an inferno of such might that it promised incredible pain. His body was glowing intensely, giving him an ephemeral but infinitely powerful, fearsome look.
He looked Bill in the eye, and Bill felt himself cower.
Slowly, Harry raised his hand. “Accio Staff,” he whispered, keeping his eyes trained on the mumbling form before him.
Bill started violently as doors were slammed open and the White Mage’s staff flew into Harry’s outstretched hand.
“You think it wasn’t bad?” hissed Harry. “You think he deserved it? Let me show you…” his eyes gleamed. “Let me show you what happened that night. Better yet… let me show you how it felt.”
“No…” mumbled Bill, “no, please don’t. Please.” He shrank away.
Harry closed his eyes and steeled himself. In his mind, he called up the memory of the dream that had assaulted him that fateful day. He felt the pain of it reawakened in his body. With a violent effort, he forced the dream into his staff. The Owl’s eyes flared with gathering light. The light grew to blinding power and hurled itself straight into Bill’s heart.
“It’s time to have some fun, my dears,” cackled a high-pitched voice. “Lucius, Bella, show my loyal followers what we do to my not-so-loyal men.”
...The air was filled with screams as the figures attacked a bloodied man who lay limply in the center of the circle…
“Crucio,” hissed Voldemort, pointing his wand at the man.
Bill screamed.
Harry drew his power back. His chest was heaving. He, too, had relived the pain, but he wasn’t about to show it.
His eyes focused on Bill once again. The man was breathing hard; he had felt the pain, but was unhurt.
Suddenly feeling like an old man, Harry leaned heavily on his staff and made his way to the door.
At the threshold, he stopped.
“I pity you,” he said softly, his back turned. “The hardness of your heart must be second only to that of Voldemort himself.”
~*~*~
High above him, in the Hospital Wing, Severus’ eyes fluttered open.